“Whoa, slow down,” I say, though I can’t help but laugh. I manage to clear a bit of space between them and me before pulling a few more jewels from my dress’s hem, passing one out to each child there.
“You’re going to have some explaining to do when your maid finds that dress,” Liana says, peering down at me from the roof with an amused expression that seems wholly out of place on her. As she looks at the children, though, her amusement fades. “The Sta’Criverans believe the refugees are cursed,” she says, disgust punctuating her words. “As if misfortune is somehow contagious.”
“That’s the most foolish thing I’ve ever heard,” I say.
“It is,” she agrees. “But people will believe anything if it makes them think they have more control than they do in this world. Pass me a bit more straw and
